Caught Halfway
by Ashlucard713
Summary: The GungHo Guns are dead, Legato’s deeds fading into memory. But Knives still has secrets, responsibilities. And they’re all wrapped up in one young girl. Anime inspired, Manga spiced.
1. Intro

_Disclaimer: Trigun does not belong to me. It owns _my _soul, actually…_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_Run!_

The moons shone high overhead, their multicolored orbs casting an eerie glow over the comatose town. A thin form moved between the shadows, ducking and dodging obstacles in her flight.

_Run!_ her mind screamed again, the noxious stench of stale booze attacking her from behind. Her predator was still close on her heels, in spite of her attempts to throw him off. She cut into another alley, one shrouded in shadow and filled with debris. Ahead, a rotting fence barred the way. She slipped through a narrow space between the boards and cast a glance back. The bloodshot eyes of her stalker glinted in the low light, and her breath caught in her mouth. Hopefully the fence would slow him down.

But it wasn't enough. The man paused only long enough to curse before he tried scaling the rotting barrier. He heaved himself over the top, crashing into garbage cans on the other side. Another curse, and the pursuit resumed.

She knew he wouldn't stop. He'd never stop. Not until he got what he wanted. Her eyes started to moisten in fear, but she clenched her jaw and forced them aside. _No time for emotion_, she thought. _Now is the time for survival. How the heck am I gonna get out of this?_

As she ran, she waited for an answer. Nothing came. Even her mind was silent. She was alone in her struggle. Completely, utterly alone.

Another sharp turn and she faced a deserted backstreet. Sighing with relief, she had reached her destination. A lonely door waited at the end of the street, the door leading to her sanctuary: the brothel. If she could only make it that far, she would be able to hide until morning. Then she could get out of this mess.

The door was so close, only about five yarz away. She could make it in a quick sprint. Glancing behind her, she strained her eyes for the drunk's lumbering body. If she stalled any longer, he would certainly catch up to her. Tiny scuffling noises pricked at her ears. She turned back towards the door, breaths shallowing with panic. Five middle-aged men emerged from the darkness of the side alleys, their inebriated faces greedy and drooling.

_Dammit!_ she screamed to herself. _His friends! I forgot about his friends! Men like him always travel in packs._ As the men swaggered in to block her escape, she wheeled around to flee. One step, and she froze. The stalker appeared, his swagger oozing victory. She tried to duck between him and a dumpster, but he caught her arm.

"Wher' ya goin' me pretty?" he drawled, his tongue thick with beer.

"Let go of me!" Her hand lashed out, nails drawn and bloodthirsty.

He just seized her hand in his meaty paw and squeezed. She whimpered, and he flung her back against the wall. His friends encircled her, tongues hanging out in wolfish lust. She pressed hard against the adobe wall, willing it to yield, to give her the protection she needed so desperately right now. A scream waited in her mouth, yearning to be voiced, but she stifled it. Screaming would do no good. No one would listen. No one would _choose_ to listen. And it would only fuel their fires.

They pressed in closer, and their thoughts began to flood into her mind. Against her will they poured in, louder and louder as the men got closer. Pressure built up, exploding into a mental cacophony. She covered her head from the fierce pain, and cringed as the drunks' barking laughter stabbed at her ears.

The leader placed his thick finger under her chin, tilting her face up to him. Under the depths of his ragged beard, a sneer curled his lip. "Wha's the matter, me dearie? You _afraid_?" he spat. "Trus' me, you hav no reas'n."

Tears stung at her eyes as she read his thoughts. This close, she couldn't help it, couldn't stop the horrible images as they bled into her mental eyes. She tried to close the link, but the booze on his breath stifled everything but a gag. There was no escape for her. No hope. Nothing. Nothing awaited her on the other side of this pain. Tears burst out as the drunk pinned her against the wall and forced his fat lips over her mouth.

_No!_ she screamed helplessly into her mind. _Please, no! _From the corner of her vision, she could see his friends stretching their hands out, like greedy children reaching for candy. For her.

* * *

_NOOOOOOOO!_

Knives jerked awake and sat upright in his bed; his body completely coated in sweat. Cold night air attacked his wet torso, sending shivers up his spine. The shriek echoed through his cavernous mind, reverberating against his thoughts. His glazed eyes tried to focus on his surroundings, attempting to recall exactly where he was. As he drifted through a foggy and disoriented mind, vague memories started to clear. The fight with his brother, five bullets ripping through his perfect flesh, and…the insurance girls. Everything slammed back into position with a torturous thunk. _Those sickening humans._ So painfully _nice_ to him. Especially the big one. At least the short one had a temper he could toy with. The girls had even rented a house so he could heal in peace. _Peace!_ Hmph! He would only find peace when all of humanity was destroyed. If he only had his gun, he would—

His vision shot red as pain seared through his lower abdomen. Screams poured into his mind and he felt as if his body was being ripped apart from the inside out. Doubling over, he clutched his stomach and grit his teeth against the torture. If he was suffering this much…he didn't want to imagine the absolute hell she must be going through.

Pressure swelled within him and his eyes began to burn blue with electric fire. He shot a glare across the bedroom to his brother. Vash was sound asleep, blissfully happy as his body lay sprawled across the small bed. Gentle snores rose from a gaping mouth while a thin trail of babyish drool leaked down his cheek onto the pillow. _Idiot!_ Knives thought. _If you hadn't shot me so full of holes, she wouldn't be in this situation! If you hadn't taken me to the other side of the planet, this wouldn't have happened!_ Rage burned hard against his brother and he quelled the fire in his eyes, only to have it resurface in his soul. _Curse you, Vash! Curse you and your useless sentimentalism! Your beloved humans are doing this to her, just as—_

He winced at the recollection. He couldn't even think the words.

_Tien…_ At the thought of the girl, the pain began to subside as the telepathic link closed. Not even a month had passed since the fight, and his injuries were not yet fully healed. He hadn't even tried walking around the house yet. But he _had_ to go. His duties and responsibilities demanded it. _She_ demanded it. He threw off the bed sheets and rose to his feet. At least the wounds to his legs didn't throb. Much. _The short one always has painkillers hidden somewhere…_ Seeing nothing in the bedroom, he stumbled into the bathroom and checked the medicine cabinet. His temples already pulsed fiercely so he reached for the first bottle he saw. He shook it, heard the dull rattle of a full bottle, and forced a pill down his throat. Hopefully, Vash had taught the human enough to have medicine with minimal side effects on their kind.

The pills took effect quickly, and his concentration cleared. He grabbed as many bandages, dressings, and medical supplies as he could find and stuffed them in a duffel, then returned to the bedroom for clothing. Once the bag was full, he slung it over his shoulder and headed out. Pausing at the bedroom door, he cast a final sneer to his brother, and was gone.

* * *

Light from the twin suns gently floated through the open window, the rays warmly caressing Vash's scruffy cheek. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he inhaled the wonderfully fresh air of morning. Eyes still closed to retain the last vestiges of sleep, he sat up and cracked his protesting vertebrae back into proper alignment. He stretched his stiffened limbs and let out a yawn loud enough to shake the house's foundations.

"Oh boy! It sure is a great morning! Isn't it, Kni—" He froze. The empty bed across from him was not what he wanted to see. Glancing around, something caught his attention. Or rather, the _lack_ of something. Yesterday he'd propped his vertical duffel against the bedroom door, beside his bed. But now that space was vacant. His eyes narrowed. _Don't you dare do this to me, Knives._

"Mr. Vash!" called Milly from the hallway. _At least he didn't do anything to the girls_, Vash breathed. He jumped out of bed and started to dress just as Milly reached the bedroom.

She stopped in the doorway, her sky-blue eyes watching him. "Breakfast is on the table, and Meryl got up really early to make you some donuts—"

"I don't have time!" he snapped, tugging up his pants as he pushed past her tall form to the bathroom.

"No time for donuts?" He had never refused donuts before. His favorite food on all of Gunsmoke, and no time? "What's wrong?"

"I haf ta go" he replied, the toothbrush mumbling his words. "Knihs ich gon. Can you han' me my hurt?"

"Hey, what's going on here?" Vash and Milly turned to see Meryl eyeing them suspiciously, every ich of her five-feel-something frame oozing a cook's annoyance. Her short ebony hair was streaked with flour and bits of food were splashed all over her apron and white dress. "Breakfast is getting cold, and you'd better appreciate it!"

"Mr. Knives is gone," Milly said as she gave Vash a shirt.

"What!" responded the shorter woman. "Well, he couldn't have gotten far. He's not healed enough yet."

"E's gon. And e ook ma ag," muttered Vash, furiously scrubbing his teeth.

Meryl glared at him. "Spit." He obeyed, and she continued calmly, "Now, what were you saying?"

"I said he's gone, and he took my bag. He's planning on pretty heavy travel. And," he pointed to the door of the medicine cabinet. "He took one of your pill bottles."

Meryl's grey eyes flew wide. "What!" she exclaimed as she threw open the cabinet door. Her eyes twitched strangely as she stared at the blank space on the shelf. "He took my Pimdo?"

Milly started to giggle as the anger in Vash's face turned to confusion. "What's that?" he asked.

The short woman slammed the cabinet door shut and shot him a look of pure fury. "Something _you_ should never be taking," she barked. "Now let's go find your idiot brother."

"Well," said Vash, heading down the hall to the living room. "Like you said, he couldn't have gotten far. Unless he took the…" His mouth gaped open as he looked out the front window. "Car," he whimpered. Last night, the car had been parked right in front of the house, and now, his fuzzy dice lay half-covered in sand right between two tire marks.

Vash's and Meryl's faces dropped. "Great. Just great," moaned Meryl through gritted teeth.

"Yeah. He still couldn't have gotten too far," Milly smiled.

Meryl turned around, wondering if her coworker's dark blonde hair was rooted in her brain. "What are you talking about? He took the car."

"But the tank was almost empty. I forgot to refill it yesterday."

"Oh Milly! You're a genius!" said Vash.

"That's what my big big brother used to say."

"Vash," interrupted Meryl. "Knives would have filled the tank on his way out of town."

"But at least I have a place to start." A big dopey grin settled on his features as he took a step toward the door.

"Hold it right there mister," ordered the short woman, putting her hand on his chest to stop him. "The last time you walked out that door you had me worried sick for a week. I'm going with you."

"You can't! It's too dangerous."

"Oh, and this is coming from a spiky-headed, donut-gorging, pacifistic-gunfighting, womanizing _plant_ boy with the dubious title of 'mankind's first localized disaster.' If I can be around you as long as I have and not be killed, hurt, or maimed, I think I can handle a genocidal maniac like Knives. Milly, see if you can get us a ride. Vash, finish getting dressed and eat your breakfast. I'm gonna go pack." With that, she huffed down the hall to her room.

Vash's eyes watched her receding back. "What just happened?"

Milly smiled. "She's going with you."

_

* * *

_

_A/N: Four years in the writing, and it's finally posted! Thanks to all who read. Let me know what you think. Mild flames ok, flamethrowers will be extinguished._


	2. Tien

_Disclaimer: Trigun does not belong to me. It owns _my _soul, actually…_

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The car bounced along the desert, the rough ride jarring his wounds to the edge of tolerance. Knives gritted his teeth against the pain, determined not to let it get the best of him. Another oversized rock hit the wheel and a thousand needles shot through his legs. He gasped for breath, trying to get enough oxygen to override the signals to his brain. The pill bottle rolled around on the floor in the back seat, its rattle beckoning him. Pain tore through his flesh, but he set his jaw and refused to give in to the tempting call. A single pill would more than take the edge off, but two would knock him out while they wreaked havoc with his body chemistry. Three hours of coma-like sleep, searing pain jolting him awake, then hallucinations of flowers and bunnies for another ten hours. He should have known better than to raid a woman's medicine horde in the middle of the night.

The wind whipped at his hair, the roughened locks lashing at his skin. A week's ride over the barren landscape had more than taken its toll on him. His face felt raw and torn, blasted by the desert wind. He would have put the car top up, but for some reason he couldn't figure out the buttons. At least the compass in the car worked. By keeping that needle pointed west, he'd managed to stay on course without too much difficulty.

The suns were low against the sky, and evening was starting to set in. Against the horizon, the tiny town of Daelu waited. Barely worth a dot on the map, less than thirty people lived there, and it only survived because it was perched on the edge of civilization. Beyond it stretched a vast ocean of sand, the Prok Dunes. Over a thousand iles wide at the narrowest point, only a few had dared to cross it, and even fewer survived the experience. He'd navigated its shifting sands once before, almost three years ago.

As he drove into the town, he cast a cautious eye about him. Daelu was still the same town he had left years before. The buildings were still crumbling, the streets derelict and forlorn. Knives parked the car in front of the general store and climbed out. Nothing had changed. The doctor's front window was still broken and boarded over, the barbershop's sign still hanging by one rusty chain, and the brothel was still…

Pangs tore through him, but he bit his cheek against them. The telepathic link ripped open again, and another's thoughts flooded into his mind. Foreign emotions cut into his concentration, and he had to focus hard to work the link closed. He could barely recall the supplies he needed, but he had to get them now. He would have no time afterwards.

The young clerk eyed him warily as he walked in. _As you should, pathetic garbage_, he laughed inwardly. Knives gathered his purchases and dumped them on the counter, leaving the clerk gaping with surprise. "You travelin' alone or with an army?"

"Do you have any painkillers?" Knives snapped, his temples beginning to throb again.

The clerk jerked his thumb to the shelf behind him. "Whatcha see is whatcha get." One dusty bottle of a generic brand. It was probably older than him.

Knives groaned inwardly. _Something is better than nothing._ "That and a bottle of whiskey."

The clerk rang everything up and dumped the merchandise into bags, all the while popping his gum as loud as possible. "Ya owe me $$52.30."

"Do you know Ancilla?"

The clerk's eyebrow rose. "Ya lookin' fer a night on the town?"

"Answer the question."

"She's dead."

"When?"

"Month ago. Died a' some weird disease. Doc didn't know what it was. Prob'ly from all the booze. Some say Ted dun her in. Either way, it dun't matter none." He snorted. "She's dead, and the town's a whole lot happier for it. Always draggin' in those whacked-out guys. Drunks, hobos, didn't matter who they were jus' long as they could pay. But her daughter… Eh, it dudn't matter."

"What about her daughter?" His eyes narrowed.

The clerk spoke slowly, voice edged. "Where's my money?"

Knives snorted and grabbed his bags. As he walked out the door, he could hear the clerk screaming and wheezing as he crushed his own trachea. A smile broke on his lips as Knives set the bags in the trunk. _Now, to business._

He worked the mental link open again. Now he could hear her, feel her. Tracing the link to the other end, he found himself in a backalley. Beside a dumpster sat a pile of tattered rags, rags that shook with soft weeping. Something stabbed at him, a hundred-years-dead pain. _Tien._

_No!_ screamed the reply. _Get out of my head!_ The pile at his feet shifted as the concealed girl pressed her palms to her temples. _I don't wanna listen to you anymore! Get the heck outta my head!_

"Tien," he said quietly.

Her eyes jumped open when she realized the voice wasn't in her head anymore. She spotted boots in front of her, and followed them up to a face. A face she somehow recognized. Pale blonde hair, once cut like a soldier, now hung in lank and dusty locks to his ears. Piercing blue irises in bloodshot eyes looked out from a face chiseled in flesh-colored stone, stone recently blasted rough by the desert sands. The face triggered a memory, one she couldn't recall.

"Great. First, I'm hearing voices. Now I'm starting to hallucinate."

"You are not hallucinating," he calmly replied.

Her head rolled in mild drama. "Now my hallucination is in denial. What would a shrink have to say to that?"

He exhaled deeply. _A teenage girl. She had to be a teenage girl_.

"I heard that," she bit off. She shrugged off the rags and leapt to her feet, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. Knives was taken aback. She looked nothing like he imagined, but everything she should be. Though red and puffy, her eyes were fierce and sharp, the blue edged with a fiery orneriness. Her body, bony and malnourished, pathetically attempted to fill the coarse dress draped over it. Light-colored hair, matted with debris, fell past her waist. She straightened her thin frame and shook her finger in his face. "All right. Who are you and why the heck is your voice in my head?"

"Would you quit the theatrics?"

"Answer the question!"

"My name is Millions Knives."

She stifled a laugh. "Did your mother name you that? Or did you change it?"

His jaw stiffened and he shot her a look that would have sent any human cowering. She merely raised an eyebrow. _Is that supposed to scare me?_ she thought to him. For a split-second, his face floated between anger and surprise before the stone mask set in again. "That is beside the point."

"Hey, I'm not the one who's ungrammatically named after a bunch of weapons. Now, why have I heard you in my head all my life?"

"I'm a plant." Crossing her arms in suspicion, Tien cocked a brow as her eyes scrutinized him again. "I have monitored you since you were born, and—what are you looking for?!" She had begun to circle him.

"The leaves," she replied innocently, patting the top of his head.

He swatted her hand away. "Not _that_ kind of plant."

"Then what 'kind of plant' are you? One of those… 'things' in a giant lightbulb?" His face hardened. "You're telling me you live in a lightbulb?"

"I can, yes."

She rolled her eyes. "And I thought _I_ was delusional."

"You're also a plant."

Her eyes blinked at him. "You're absolutely nuts," she laughed, turning on her heels and walking away. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't live in a giant lightbulb. See ya."

"You're only two and a half years old, but you look fifteen," he said, and Tien froze in her tracks. She turned around, confusion on her face. "You can read the thoughts of humans, even if you don't try." She started walking back to him. "If they get physically close enough, you can see their mental images. And, when you hold a small lightbulb…" He produced a bulb from inside his shirt. "You can make it glow." On cue, the bulb lit up in his hands, and Tien stared in amazement. She lifted her eyes to him again.

"You really are a—" she muttered breathlessly.

"_Tien!"_

The girl wheeled around in the direction of the yell, and her face fell. Six men were staggering across the street, heading right for her. _No! I gotta run! Gotta hide!_

_Why?_ came his calm reply.

She whipped back around and looked into his face. He was watching the men, a supercilious sneer twisting his features.

"Tien, wha' the hell is ya doin' now?"

_They won't stop chasing you. Not until you teach this garbage a lesson._

_Not now! _Panic rose in her thoughts. _Now is not the time—_

_Now is the perfect time. _

She tried to run, but she found her hands in his iron grip. Struggle as she might, she couldn't loosen his hold. She fought and pulled, but to no avail. _This guy must be nuts! He can't face down Ted and his pack. Ohhh, Ted's gonna kill me!_

_Not if I kill him first._

She froze and stared at him. _He really is crazy!_

"Tien!" The men had reached the alley, and Knives released Tien's hands. The leader of the group looked Knives over, a predator studying his prey. "Wha' kinda filth ya hangin' out wit now?"

"Ted, Ted, please," Tien whimpered, backing away. "He came up to me. Please, please, Ted."

"Ya know," he slobbered, slamming her shoulders hard against the dumpster. "I don know if I like the way ya was lookin' a' him."

"Please, Ted. Please."

"Ah, so you're Ted," condescended Knives. _Don't let him rule over you_.

Her eyes widened in pleading. _Go! Please, just go!_

"Yeah," mumbled Ted, turning around. His paw kept Tien in place. "Wha's it to ya?"

"I have a little lesson for you," leered Knives.

The men laughed. "Hehehehe. An' I gots a lil les'n for ya, too," chuckled Ted. "Take 'em, boys."

Before the men could obey, their hair started to float with static. Electricity snapped through the air, and Knives' eyes began to glow. Blue lightning gathered and five black orbs appeared. He held out his hands, manipulating the streaks of power with his fingers. The orbs floated around the plant, mesmerizing the humans with their presence. Suddenly, the orbs shot out, attaching themselves to Ted's friends and swallowing them alive. The men's primeval screams echoed through the alley, building to a frightening crescendo of pain and torture. Just before the breaking point, the screams abruptly choked off and the orbs disappeared, taking the men with them.

"Worthless human garbage," stated Knives as his eyes returned to normal. "Only good for consuming resources."

"Wha' the hell did ya jus' do?" slurred Ted.

"Extermination." With inhuman speed, Knives grabbed the human by the throat and slammed him into the alley wall. Plaster and adobe cracked under the impact. "Now it's your turn."

"Knives, please. Don't," pled Tien. But she knew it was useless.

"Do you have any final words?" mocked the plant. Ted only gasped and wheezed in his grasp. Knives's right arm transformed, his fingers turning into elongated blades.

"Hmm, you won't be needing these." The man screamed airlessly as tender parts of his male anatomy fell away. Knives reveled in the human's pathetic whimpering and crying, and he pressed harder on the windpipe in his fingers. Human eyes bulged in pain as plant eyes narrowed in delight. Drawing back his arm, Knives deftly plunged his blades into the human's stomach. Fresh blood splurted out as the man's eyes began to roll back into his head. The plant withdrew his blades and released his hold, and the body slid to the ground.

Blades returned to flesh and Knives disdainfully shook the remaining blood from his arm. He turned on his heels and grabbed Tien's wrist as he left the body in the dust. "Come on, we have to leave."

"You just—how could—he—" she stammered as he dragged her away. As he neared the car, she regained her senses. Throwing her arm out of his hand, she dug her bare heels into the dirt and stopped. "You just ki—" Suddenly conscientious, she said in a quieter voice, "You just _killed_ six men. And now you expect me to just go off with you?!"

"Yes."

"No. No! I am not gonna climb into a car with a _murderer_!"

"Then are you willing to stay here and be punished for this?"

"What?" she said. "Now wait a minute! I didn't do anything! I even tried to talk you—"

"Do you think they'll believe that? The townspeople? The humans?"

She didn't answer. She just stared.

"Everyone here hates you," he stated flatly. "They think you're a monster, a freak of nature. Not even your own _mother_ defended you."

Tears formed in her eyes. He'd cut her deep, but he couldn't stop. Not when he was so close—

"You want nothing more than to get out of here. Every morning, you watch the suns rise and dream of the day you can escape. Now you can. I am your ticket out of here. I am the one who can help you the most. I can help you discover who and what you are. You are _not_ human. You know that. You've known it since before you can remember. Now _come with me_."

She was still in shock. A million things ran through her mind, but she couldn't decide on anything.

_There is nothing for you here._

Her mind was so torn. To stay here meant pain, but to go with him—somehow that felt both right and wrong at the same time.

"Murder!" she heard a voice scream from the backalley.

Tien didn't hesitate a second longer. Running past Knives, she jumped over the door into the car. "C'mon! Do you need a written invitation or something? Let's move!"

He shook his head. She was still thinking like a human.


	3. Spoon Full of Sugar

_Disclaimer: Trigun does not belong to me. It owns _my _soul, actually…_

**Chapter 3**

The suns were sinking low on the horizon as the Prok Dunes passed beneath them. Daelu had long ago eaten their dust, but Tien hadn't said anything since they had left the city limits. Knives cast a glance to his right. Her face hadn't changed. Her eyes still had that far-off meditative look, as though she'd retreated into herself. Keeping his eyes glued to the desert, he extended mental fingers to her, trying to probe her mind. He had barely touched the surface when her eyes snapped out of their trance and locked onto his face. With brutal force, she slammed the fingers back into his mind.

_I told you to STAY OUTTA MY HEAD!_

His brain throbbed from the telepathic punch. "What's wrong?"

"Hmm, 'what's wrong?' Gee. It couldn't possibly be that I've been told I'm a freak of nature, I saw six men brutally _killed_ right before my eyes, and all of Daelu thinks I did it." She sighed. "At least they'll only find one body."

"Two."

"What?"

"Two bodies. The clerk in the store."

"Davie?" Her thin face pulled taut with shock, then anger. "You killed Davie! What kind of man are you?"

"I am not exactly a _man_, am I?"

"Whatever. I didn't ask you to kill them."

"You didn't have to."

"I never wanted them dead!"

"Then what did you want?" he barked, his temper finally rising. "Them to rape you again?"

No response. He glanced at her and cringed. He could have stabbed her, shot her, and disemboweled her, but her expression couldn't have been worse. All the blood had drained from her starved face and her cheeks were pinched tight with emotion. Her eyes turned to liquid, and the brilliant blue faded to nothing as grief clouded over. Dirt-coated hair whipped across her skeletal features, only adding to her unattempted look of forlorn hopelessness. She finally turned away and glued her eyes to her bare feet, but he saw a small tear streak down her dust-covered face.

He bit the inside of his cheek, hard enough to taste blood. _Damn this stupid desert! _Easing his foot off the accelerator, he started to fumble with the buttons, trying to find a way to put up the top. Tien grunted and hit a button beside the satellite receiver and the top started to unfold.

"Slow down to thirty, or else the wind'll rip the top off," she stated blandly.

He slowed, and once the top latched onto the windshield, he pushed the gas again. "Where's the nearest town?"

"Fine time to ask that. A hundred iles out of nowhere."

"Tien—"

"We won't make it tonight. Keep west."

* * *

At ten o'clock they stopped. The temperature had dropped sharply once the suns set, and the sky had clouded over, shutting out the moonlight. Knives had found a portable stove in the trunk, but their supper was barely warm enough to merit digestion. He and Tien sat against the car, both pairs of eyes fixed on the stove's tiny flame as it heated a pot of coffee.

Nothing stirred over the desert. No wind, no animals, nothing. The deathly silence was unbearable. Knives glanced at Tien. She leaned against the rear wheel, legs pulled up to her chest, chin resting on scrawny knees, a brown blanket tightly wrapped around her.

His gaze returned to the stove. "Earlier—"

"You had a point," she replied, her voice throaty. "If you hadn't…then they…" A deep breath, and she could speak. "I wouldn't have been the last."

"You should get some sleep."

Her eyes turned to him. "What about bandits?"

"I'll stay awake."

A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. "Okay."

* * *

The suns beat down on his roughened face, burning through his lids straight into his retinas. Knives groaned and tried to move his forearm over his eyes. Something resisted, and he cracked open an eyelid to find his body tangled in a mess of blankets. He'd only used the green one, so why was brown also in his vision? Blinking his mind awake, he looked around and spotted Tien sitting atop a nearby dune. Her meager form was silhouetted against the pinkling sky, the wind whipping at her untangled hair. He sat up, peeling his aching limbs from their fabric bondages. She saw him stir and came over.

"So much for staying awake," she smiled, plopping to the ground across from him. As she dug through his bag, he saw no trace of the dirt and grime that had stained her skin the previous night. The remnants of her street life had been washed off in the early morning.

"I see you opened the trunk."

"Hmm, 'raided' is more like it. Donut?" she said, offering him a circular cake.

He eyed it strangely. "Where did you find that?"

"A box was stuffed in the bottom of your bag." She snatched up another pastry and took a bite. "Marked 'Emergency Food Rations.' The expiry date was close, so I figured we'd better use them up."

Knives sighed as he took the food. _Vash_.

"Who's that?" she mumbled, her mouth full.

"My brother."

"Brother?"

"An idiot and a buffoon. You will meet him soon enough."

"Ahh." She swallowed. "By the way, the two tanks of water in the trunk—"

"For the radiator."

"I used some to clean up."

"How much?"

"Third of a tank."

"Mm," he murmured, taking another donut. How she could clean so well with so little water, he didn't understand. She said something, and he looked up.

"Hm?"

"I asked about your wounds."

"Feh. They're fine."

"If they're so 'fine,' I should take a look at them."

He stiffened slightly. "That is not necessary."

Her face warmed to sarcasm. "Uh-huh. That attitude is gonna land you one nasty infection, mister."

"Hmph," he snorted. "I have managed perfectly well without you."

"Yeah, you've managed so well that your wounds won't stop bleeding."

He snorted again.

Tien crossed her arms melodramatically and looked him square in the face. "Take the shirt off," she ordered slowly.

He returned her stare. "No."

She ran her tongue along her teeth in aggravation. "We can do this the easy way, or the _hard_ way."

_No._

Her arms unfolded as she shrugged. "Okay. Hard way it is then." In a quick fluid motion, she reached behind her for the water tank, flipped the lid and sent half its contents flying at him. Before he could react, the water completely doused him, its intense cold knocking the breath from his lungs.

"Now you have no choice," she smirked.

Knives glared at her in anger and astonishment. No one should be able to defy him like that. However, she _had_ used her abilities to chill the water—he had sorely underestimated her. He acquiesced, and began to grumpily unbutton his shirt.

Tossing the sodden garment aside, he turned his back to her. "Just hurry up," he grumbled as she rose to her feet.

Another freezing deluge hit him and he whipped his head up. A mischievous grin stretched across Tien's visage as she lowered the emptied tank.

"Dammit, woman! What more do you want?!"

"You needed a shower," she stated, dropping a towel in his lap. He growled through a set jaw, and began to dry his shivering body. Grabbing the dressings and the medkit from the trunk, she noticed a glass bottle hiding in the back seat of the car. "Whiskey. Perfect!"

"For what?" he mumbled through the towel.

"You'll find out," the girl smiled. She dropped to her heels behind his back and began carefully mixing ingredients into a small bowl. Knives glanced over his shoulder and saw her spitting into the bowl.

"_What_ are you doing?" he demanded.

"Just mixing some medicine," she replied, stirring the contents with her fingers. As she crawled to his right side, his nose wrinkled at the bowl. "Hey, don't gimme that look. This stuff works better than anything you can buy."

"It certainly doesn't smell it."

"The more it stinks, the better it works." She set it on the ground and pulled out a scissors to cut through his old bandages. His eyes were still wary of the pasty concoction, and as she snipped, she explained, "It's something I learned from Old Doc Sanderson. Every now and then some guy would wander into town, his belly full of lead, his guts hanging out, and all Old Doc did was pull out the shrapnel, slap this stuff over the wound, throw on a bandage and send him on his way."

"And it healed him," he replied skeptically.

"Grit your teeth." Before he was ready, she yanked the dressing from his wound. Streaks of fire shot through his flesh, culminating a sharp yelp of pain.

"Oh man-up. It's not like I'm pulling chest hairs," she barked as he flinched away.

"Actually you are."

_Baby_.

He narrowed his eyes. _I heard that_.

_Then quit whining_, she thought, gently fingering the wound. It was angry and red, burning under her touch. "Well, congratulations Knives. You have yourself a full-blown infection."

From the corner of his vision, he saw her reach for the whiskey. "What are you—Aaagh!"

She was pouring the cool liquor over his wound, her gaze riveted on the fiery sore under the golden stream. "The alcohol works as a disinfectant." Setting the bottle aside, she proceeded to slather the noxious-smelling paste into his injury.

"What is in that?"

"Oh, a little bit of this, little bit of that…"

"Little bit of saliva."

"Makes it stick," she grinned, slapping on another layer before beginning to dress the wound. "But try not to think about that. Think about something else. Distract your mind, and you won't feel the pain. There," she said, tucking in the free end of the binding. "One down, two to go." She moved to his other shoulder and started cutting again.

"Tell me about your mother."

The scissors stopped. "I meant _you_ distract _your_ mind."

"Listening is a better distraction."

She made the final snip and exhaled coldly as she ripped the bandage from his shoulder. This time he barely winced. "There's not much to tell. She gave birth to me, but that was about as far her 'motherly duties' went. Once I could walk, she cut me loose. Never showed the slightest interest in me."

"What of your father?"

"Hmph. Never met 'im. He was just some guy who drifted into town looking for a fun night."

"What if you did meet him?"

She vocally shrugged as she wrapped his shoulder tightly. "Don't know. Don't care. The guy was never in my life, so why should I spare a thought for him?" Tien shifted her attention to his stomach. "Why the sudden inquisition? You don't seem the type."

"You're a plant."

"Like that's supposed to mean something? So I'm a plant. Big deal."

"It is a 'big deal'—"

"Oh yeah. I can live in a lightbulb! I can power a person's house!" She snorted, wrenching the dressing loose savagely. "Now, instead of being a 'freak,' I'm a plant. It's just a different label for the same thing."

He whipped around and seized her eyes with his glare. Fierce anger rippled through his ocular pools, the pupils nearly disappearing under waves of rage. Hints of madness touched the lines of his face, and his voice was low and gruff. "You have no idea what you are, what you can do. The humans beat you down and made you cower before them, brainwashing you into slavery. They tortured you because they _feared_ you. You are _not_ human, Tien. Stop thinking like them. You're a superior being."

She held his gaze, her face unreadable. _Bit of a superiority complex, haven't we?_

His eyes narrowed. _I can teach you to use your powers._

_I bet you can._

_Why do you mock me?_

_Call it 'healthy skepticism.'_

_You have no idea what I can do._

_Yeah, I do._

His brow twitched minutely.

_You can take care of your own dang wounds._ She chucked clean bandages at him. _I'm gonna pack.

* * *

_

Less than an hour later, they were flying through the desert again. The suns sat high in the warm blue sky, and the blasting winds had calmed to let the plants pass unheeded. Solid rock sped under the tires at over 70 iles an hour, and the Dunes flew past in a sandy blur.

"I get the feeling you've done this before," remarked Tien.

"Hm?"

"You've been through the Prok Dunes, haven't you?"

"Why do you say that?"

She sighed and resettled her gaze on the horizon. "Two travelers wandered into town a while back. They said they'd been through the Dunes, but no one believed them. Few were even willing to listen to them. Late at night, they'd tell spin these unbelievable yarns about giant sandworms, strange Amazonian women, and lost technology buried out here. 'Course, I read right through them, but one thing seemed to register as real. They told me they found an ancient road cutting through longest, most difficult stretch of the Dunes. If you found that road, the desert just seemed to float past." Her eyes drifted back to him.

"There is no road here. We are merely traveling on a vein of rock blown clean by the wind."

"Whatever you say, plant boy," she remarked, turning back to the flying scenery.

He sighed. Her endless sarcasm was growing intolerable.

"Knives?"

"Hm."

A question sat on the edge of her tongue, but she asked another. "If you've traveled the Dunes before, why did you ask me about the nearest town?"

"I had to get you to say _something_."

"Oh."

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Even without the link between them, he could feel the questions rising within her, questions needing to be asked. Questions he would soon be forced to answer.

* * *

_A/N: whimper It seems my readership is tiny. Either that, or there's certain program glitches involving my fic. Must investigate…_

_Please, if you're reading this, leave me a note, just to know I'm not writing to nobody._


	4. Change of Pace

**_Fanfiction. _**_Noun. Used for literary works written using already-existing characters from television shows, movies, books, anime/manga, etc. Is not the exclusive property of the author, as it borrows characters, settings, and/or situations already owned._

_Laymen's terms: not mine!

* * *

_

**Chapter 4**

The suns were burning high overheard when Vash and Meryl drifted into Daelu. Over the past week and a half, harsh desert travel had beaten their bodies and sapped their energy. Even Meryl's overly energetic thomas had settled down to apathy for its rider. As the couple stood at the edge of the town's main street, they could barely summon enough energy to speak.

"At last…civilization," said Vash in happy fatigue.

"Yeah," she replied, equally exhausted.

He scanned the buildings and his eyes settled on a joyful sight. "Bar!" he squeaked, his face lighting up.

"Huh? Hey, Vash!" She reached out to stop him, but before she knew it, he was gone, her steed's reins hanging limply where he had dropped them. She snarled and dismounted to lead her beast to the tavern.

She pushed open the flapping doors, and peered into the darkness of the building. The place was full of crooks and gunmen, every table surrounded by gamblers and drunks, all leering at her petite form in the door. Meryl stiffened obstinately and strode forward, ignoring their looks. Spotting the spiky blonde head of her companion at the bar, she started growling as she shot daggers into his back.

He didn't turn around, but began to gulp down his liquor as she approached. Setting her jaw stubbornly, she slapped him upside the head and took a stool beside him.

"Geez, Meryl! What was that for?" he whimpered, rubbing the back of his head.

"We're here to find your brother."

"I know. But you didn't hafta hit me."

"What is that?" She pointed to the mug of beer in his hand.

"I'm thirsty."

"You'll be drunk. You have no tolerance for that."

"Awww, c'mon Meryl…" he whined, his aqua eyes growing distinctly puppy-ish.

She hated when he did that.

"Please…"

And he knew it.

His bottom lip started quivering.

"Oh all right!" _The things I go through for this dork._ "Just don't get drunk."

"What do you want? I'm paying!"

"With my money."

"No, it's from my wallet."

"And who gave you the money to put in your wallet after your brother cleaned you out?"

"Oh… Ice cream sundae?"

"Sure."

"Hey! Barkeep!" he yelled, waving wildly to the man behind the counter. A melting ice-cream concoction slid down the bar and came to a stop before Meryl, a beat-up spoon stuck in it.

Vash took another gulp of his drink. "Ahhh! This sure takes the edge off! Even my hair was beginning to wilt from the heat."

"Are you sure your brother was here?" She poked at the ice cream. "It doesn't seem like the type of place he'd run off to."

His face turned serious as he set down the mug. "I know. But he was here. I can feel it."

"You lookin' for somebody?" asked the aging barkeeper.

"Yeah," replied Meryl. "Did a man just come through here? Tall, pale blonde hair, blue eyes, looks kinda like him." She pointed to Vash.

"We don't get many people out here anymore, so any visitors get noticed. A guy like that left here a few days ago."

Vash's eyes narrowed with a somber light. "Which way did he go?"

"West, 'cross the Dunes. Either he's real smart or awful dumb to head out that way."

"He's both," Meryl grumbled, swirling the chocolate syrup into the white cream.

"Especially with that girl," muttered the barkeep.

"Girl?" Lilac-grey irises darted up. "What girl?"

"She's jus' a nobody. A street brat."

"Did she go willingly?" asked Vash, a hint of fear in his voice.

"Not at first. But then she got spooked an' jumped in his car an' they drove off."

Vash narrowed his eyes, glaring into his drink.

"Wasn't til later when we foun' the bodies."

"Bodies?" Meryl pushed the sundae away.

"We foun' Davie dead in the store. His fingers were wrapped around his own throat. Ol' Doc said he choked himself to death."

Blue-green eyes darkened.

"An' then Ted…" He shook his head gravely.

"What happened to him?" she asked.

"It ain't fit ta tell you, miss. But there was blood al' over. Yer friend prob'ly did it, an' the girl saw 'im do it. Cuz they flew outta here faster than a cactus-butted thomas."

Meryl cast a sideways glance at Vash. He hadn't moved, but she didn't like that look in his eyes. So dark, so cold, so murderous. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and the cruel glint faded slightly.

"Where can we get supplies?"

"Wha—why? You goin' after 'em? I wouldn' do that if I were you."

"We need to," replied Vash, his voice tight. "I'm not gonna lose him now."

* * *

His mind twitched and Knives woke with a start. He blinked heavily, trying to find a way through the fog of residual pain and clouds of sleep in his consciousness. The hotel room came into focus as the previous day's events reconstituted themselves in his memory. Burning sunlight flooded through the window and he groaned loudly, pulling the covers over his head. Water ran in the bathroom, and he moaned. Tien was awake.

He squirmed spasmodically under the sheets, attempting to work his stiff limbs into the fetal position. A cramp seized hold and his leg lashed out, kicking something sitting atop the covers. He gave up his battle for sleep and sat up.

A pile of clothes was perched at the foot of his bed, once a neatly folded stack, but now balled up into a disorganized heap from his writhing. He peeled his aching corpse from the sheets and stood, ignoring his completely unattired state. A white shirt rested on the top of the heap, its soft white fabric beckoning. He picked up the garment, and fingered the material. This wasn't the shirt he'd worn yesterday. What did she…

Tien emerged from the bathroom, brushing her now shoulder-length hair. Knives stared. The pitiful dress was gone, replaced by a sharp silver shirt, black jeans, and knee-high combat boots. How long had he been asleep?

"Tien," he said, holding up the new shirt in his hands. "Where did you—"

She froze when she lifted her eyes to him. Shock widened her features as her gaze passed over his openly exposed body. Suddenly she screamed, slammed her eyes shut, covered her face with her forearm, and let the hairbrush fly. The heavy brush shot across the room and nailed Knives on the forehead with deadly accuracy. He yelped and fell to the floor, landing hard on his naked rear.

"You sicko perv!" she yelled, eyes still shut.

He rubbed his forehead, once the only part of his body that didn't hurt. "What are you talking about?"

Peeping under her lids, she saw that he was safely hidden between the two beds. All she could see was his hobo-like face peering above the mattress. But she didn't know how long he would stay that way. "Just because I'm the daughter of a prostitute doesn't mean I have no decency!"

"What are you talking about, woman?!"

She threw down her arm and glared at him, her eyes glowing faintly. "If you wanna keep it, HIDE IT! Now I'm gonna go downstairs and get some breakfast. I want you dressed by the time I come back." With a huff, she turned on her heels and stomped out the door, slamming it in her wake.

Ten minutes later, she knocked on the door. "Are you done exhibiting yourself yet?"

"Yes," he grumbled, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

Tien opened the door, carrying a tray piled high with breakfast foods. "I didn't know what you liked, so I just grabbed a little bit of everything." She set the tray on the small eating table and looked at her traveling companion.

As he pulled on the blood-red vest she'd provided him, she was surprised how well she'd guessed his size. The khaki jeans she'd found fit him much better than his old baggy slacks, and the crisp white shirt showed off the solid muscles of his chest. During her absence, he'd shaved off the week plus of scruff and trimmed his hair back to a soldier's precision. Under all the muck he'd managed to sluice off, he actually appeared fairly good-looking. _For a cranky homicidal psychopath,_ she thought to herself as she sat down.

"Where did you get these clothes?"

Slathering a piece of toast with butter and jelly, she replied, "There's a small clothier down the street. He was having an end-of-season sale, or something like that."

"And how did you pay for them?"

As she took a bite of the toast, she reached into her back pocket and held up his wallet. His eyes narrowed and he growled as he snatched the leather billfold out of her hand. "Pickpocket."

"Nope," she answered, swallowing. "Pickpockets steal from fully clothed people. I just lifted your wallet as you slept."

Knives clenched his jaw. _I am not amused._

"If I wanted to amuse you, I would have dressed like a clown. Now eat your food before it gets cold."

He dropped grumpily into the chair across from her and seized a cinnamon roll. As he began to nibble, Tien pulled out a map and spread it across her knees. "If you plan on heading west again, we're gonna hafta be careful. The clothier said there's a band of thugs about 50 iles out. Call themselves the Cheri-souk Indians. Nothing but white trash trying to be something they aren't, but they've stolen a lot of lost technology, so they're a good-sized threat to anybody who tries to cross that stretch."

"I know," he replied matter-of-factly, not looking at her as he sipped a cup of coffee.

She cocked a brow at him. "Then you ran into them before."

"No. I have only heard of them.

"But you crossed the Dunes…" Her eyes squinted in confusion.

"Here I turned south."

"Then why don't we—"

"Our course lies west," he stated.

"But—"

_Are you afraid?_

_No. _

_Liar. I can sense your fear. _

Her eyes narrowed. _What are you trying to get out of me?_

He slowly lifted his reptilian gaze to her. _A realization. _

_Of what?_

_You'll see._

She didn't like the tone of that thought.

* * *

_Now I know why I never traveled_.

Tien stared at the passing dunes, utterly bored. The dull monotony of desert travel gnawed at her mind. She'd tried counting the dunes to pass the time, but after 15,389, she lost count and gave up. The satellite radio didn't work this far out in the middle of nowhere, and Knives was still sulking from the hairbrush attack and her shopping spree. She wished he would grunt, groan, scream, talk in a foreign language, anything but the silent treatment. Her eyes scanned the area near her, and settled on a pen stuck in the seat. She chucked it at his thigh.

"Haven't you thrown enough things at me today?" he said curtly, not even sparing her a glance from behind his sunglasses.

"Finally! He speaks!"

"Your melodramatics are getting quite annoying."

"Well what do you expect? You haven't said anything in three hours."

"What would you have me say?"

"Anything! Grunts I can converse with. Yelling I can argue with."

"Congratulations."

"Hey, you deserve more than a brush to the head after what you put me through."

"Please…" he scoffed.

"You've scarred me for life!"

"You're exaggerating."

"Technically, I'm only two and a half. A two-and-a-half year old girl shouldn't have to see _that_ when she comes out of the bathroom."

A smirk twisted his lips. "You act as though you've never seen a naked male before."

She turned sideways in her seat and crossed her arms. "Bite me!"

"I'm not a vampire."

"Well, you're bloodthirsty enough!"

"And what makes you say that?"

"Uh, gee. How 'bout what you did to Ted?!"

His face turned stony again. "He deserved far worse than that."

"Ya know, you never told me why you came to Daelu."

"To rescue you."

"But nobody's ever cared about me. Why should you? A complete and total stranger?"

He glanced at her, concern edging the blue irises. "Somebody had to watch out for you."

"But why you?"

"I told you. You're a plant. We watch out for each other."

"Sure. 'Watch out,'" she huffed, turning forward again.

"What do you mean by that?" he ordered quietly.

"If you were 'watching out' for me, where were you when I needed you? Where were you two months ago when everything went to heck in a handbasket?" Her words had sharpened to daggers as her eyes glared from the corners of their orbits.

He turned his attention back to the path ahead, avoiding her look. "I was… incapacitated."

"Hn," she snorted.

"I had to meet with my brother. He is the one responsible."

She didn't respond.

"Listen, I tried to take care of you. Why do you think you've heard me in your head all your life? So you could have someone to talk to when things happened—"

"Ya know, 'talking to someone' implies verbally, physically _talking_. Not thinking to a voice in your head."

"Then shoot me."

"Alright. Gimme a gun."

"You actually _want_ to shoot me."

"Yeah, I do. Because you're being a jerk! In fact, that's prob'ly why your brother shot you so full of holes."

"Who do you think sent you money every three months?" he snapped. "Why do you think your mother was able to put a roof over your head? Clothes on your back? Food in your stomach? It certainly wasn't because she had a high-paying job."

She stared.

"And every time you found yourself in trouble, who was there to listen? Who was at least _mentally_ there to help you out of the grave you'd dug for yourself? Why do you think no human dared even touch you? Why do you think Ted took so long to attack you when he had more than ample opportunity earlier? Because _I_ was there. Not in body but in mind. Through you and your abilities, I was able to keep those dogs at bay. To keep them away from you."

"You," she breathed.

"You were never alone," he continued softly. "At least I could give you that."

"Knives… I—I never—"

"Shh."

"What is this?! First you chew me out, then you cut off when I'm trying to apol—"

"Quiet!" he growled. "What do you hear?"

Tien tilted her head to listen. "The wind. The engine."

"Beyond that."

She unfocused her eyes, disabling one sense to better another. Below every other noise—the steady hum of the car, the whispers of the wind, the lub-dub of her heart—arose another sound. A low thrumming. Steadily growing louder.

"Something's coming. No…more than one." She lifted her eyes to him, fearfully white. "The Indians."

"Precisely," he replied solemnly.

"Well, aren't you gonna do something?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"I don't know! Mess with their heads a little."

His lips twisted in sadistic malice. _Oh, I can do more than that._

She stared at him as his eyes glazed and glowed. Energy gathered in his body, trying to heighten his powers. Suddenly he growled and slammed his fist on the wheel.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

He snarled something as the engine grew louder with acceleration.

"Why aren't you doing something?"

"Because I can't!"

"What!"

"Painkillers. The painkillers I took at breakfast must have disabled my abilities."

"But they were only Children's Aspirin!"

He snarled and pushed the accelerator harder.

As they tore through the sand, Tien turned around in the seat, watching the dunes behind them. Now she didn't have to strain to hear the thrum. It was beginning to resonate in her ribcage, and nausea formed in her stomach.

"I thought you said we didn't have to worry," she said, nearly yelling over the now-pounding engine.

"I never said that."

"So you dragged me all the way out here, knowing full well the dangers, and now we—"

"Now is hardly the time for 'I-told-you-so's, Tien," replied Knives, his knuckles white as he steered the car over the top of a large ridge. They nearly slid sideways down the steep decline as the traction gave way. The thrum behind them had turned into a full-fledged roar, even drowning out their engine.

"I thought you knew how to drive!" she yelled as he swerved to avoid another low dune.

"You assume too much."

"Oh great! You're gonna get us killed, you idiot!"

"Quit it with the names."

"That's not a name, it's a title. I dub thee 'Sir Idiot.'"

"Just keep an eye out."

They shot over the top of another dune, all four wheels airborne. Landing in a cloud of fine sand, Knives never let his foot off the gas pedal but kept driving them forward. Tien watched his face, now tight with concentration and eyes wild like a madman. When she turned back to the dune they'd just passed over, her heart stopped. Six hovercrafts shot through the sand, their motorcycle-like frames coated in dust and warpaint. More followed on their heels.

"Hey, Knives. Pedal faster!"

"How many?"

"Too many!"

"How far?"

"Not far enough."

"Specifics, Tien!"

"Forty. At least. 500 yarz and closing. Fast!"

Sand exploded around them, tiny geysers spawned from attacking bullets. Knives hastily jerked the wheel, trying to dodge the onslaught. Suddenly a cloud of dust erupted from the front passenger wheel and the car buried its nose in a dune. Momentum threw Tien into the dashboard as Knives slammed into the steering wheel.

"Damn! They shot the tire!" he cursed. "Tien, run!"

"What! Are you crazy?"

"It's your only chance," he said, yanking the keys out of the ignition and jumping out of the disabled car. "You have to get away."

"But Knives—"

"GO!" he screamed, pulling her out. His ferocity scared her into compliance and she ran. When she topped the nearest dune, he sprinted in the opposite direction, hoping at least to distract their pursuers. The Indians raced over the ridges of sand, their gaudy headdresses and Tomahawk guns flailing in the wind. Spotting the elder plant in his flight, they let out an ear-piercing war cry and turned after him.

_Yes, that's it_, he thought. _Follow me. I'll show you how helpless this victim is._

Only a hundred yarz from him, the Chief let out a whoop. The tribe split, and the Chief tore up the dune after Tien, half the tribe following like hounds. _No! Dammit, no!_ Knives screamed, racing after them. It was hopeless, but he had to try.

A short lanky Indian drove the rest of the tribe straight towards him, their paint-smeared faces showing no fear. Suddenly, two warriors leaped off their hovercrafts to tackle him. One he ducked beneath, while the second hit him square in the chest. Both went down, but Knives knocked his attacker aside. The plant jumped to his feet again, and more bandits encircled him. His fists swung wildly, knocking down a warrior with every adrenaline-filled punch. Tien's scream echoed across the sand and Knives hesitated. Warriors piled on top of him, their blows finally hitting him. One bandit pistol-whipped him on the back of the head, and he fell to his knees. Four warriors seized his arms and dragged him over the dune.

He struggled to escape, but the humans held him tight. As they crested the dune, Knives saw the other Indians presenting Tien to their leader. Four men held her arms tight while another had buried his hands in her hair, pulling her head back cruelly. The burly Chief stood before them, arms crossed gravely across his chest, nodding his consent to his warriors.

"Knives!" she screamed. The warrior tugged on her hair, jerking her into silence. The Chief saw their second victim and strode to meet his men, his costume-like warbonnet waving behind him.

The warriors forced Knives to his knees and yanked his head back. Standing before him, the sunburned Chief seemed even more laughable than from afar. Faux leather slacks, gaudy beads dangling from everywhere, and a tacky bone chestplate completed the parody of a savage.

"Hmm. You and girl split. Go separate ways. You think we stupid," the Chief grunted.

Knives laughed through gritted teeth. "I don't think you're stupid. You've just demonstrated that you _are_."

The Chief frowned and the lanky warrior yanked on Knives' head. "Silence!" ordered the high nasal voice of the bandit behind him.

"No one escape Indians. My warriors best on Gunsmoke. We most feared of all."

The plant spat at him.

His face turned redder, and the Chief seized Knives by the throat. "Now listen here, you little whelp—"

"Ahh, so you can speak English."

The Chief squeezed and Knives started to choke. "You're not gonna escape. Get that through your thick head right now. But before we kill you, we're gonna have a little fun."

He released, and the plant could breathe again. Gasping for air, Knives glared at the Chief, who simply smiled and pointed down the dune. He followed the finger. "You bastard," the plant growled.

Less than thirty yarz away, the warriors were gathering around Tien. Her captors forced her to the ground, kicking and screaming. She couldn't go through this again. _No_, she pled, her eyes streaming with saltwater. She couldn't become a victim again. Her limbs lashed out, clawing, punching, kicking, slapping, anything and everything she could do. One by one, her arms and legs were seized and restrained. But she wouldn't stop fighting. She couldn't stop. A fire grew within her, and its angry warmth spread through her body. Her skin turned blazing hot, and the warriors holding her limbs let go. She jumped up, her eyes blazing infernos. The men started backing off in fear, but one bit his lip and tried to approach her. He reached for her, but she held her hands before her. _Never again. I shall never let this happen AGAIN!_

White light streaked through her vision and everything vanished in its heat. The desert disintegrated beneath her feet, and the humans' overwhelming presence evaporated. She felt alone again, but the light lifted her, comforting her in its warm embrace. It seemed familiar, like an old friend welcoming her home. As suddenly as it appeared, the light vanished, leaving an empty darkness in its wake. She saw the humans now, everyone around her appearing like fluorescent ghosts in a blackened room. They were writhing and screaming in immense pain. Their bones glowed under their flesh, and began to pop and splinter like logs in the fire. Their bodies were being eaten away, their remains turning to ash and scattering to the wind. She felt something, no, some_one_ snuffing out their lives, one by one. _No. I didn't want them dead! _

_Then what did you want?_ crooned a strange voice.

_I just wanted this to stop! I just wanted the pain to stop! _

_You can't stop it. You started this._

_What? What are you saying? _

The voice was silent, but something gnawed at her.

_Am I the one doing this?

* * *

_

_A/N: Poor Tien. Why do I torment my characters?_

_Like, loathe, somewhere between? Let me know what you think._

_Chibi-Knives and Vash plushies to inkydoo, ShortyBay-B, jewelofbeauty, and Maxwell's Angel. Thanks for reviewing!!_

_Sorry about the long delay! But between class, finals, and Christmas vacation, I kept forgetting. Then I didn't have internet. Next chap next week, I swear!_


	5. Revelations

_Regarding Trigun, the characters created by Nightow, and the planet Gunsmoke…I no own so you no sue!

* * *

_

**Chapter 5**

Knives shook his head back to reality as he peeled himself from under the humans' bodies. The desert was smoking, the sand burned to a golden brown in a hundred-yarz crater around him. Corpses lay everywhere, and the air smelt of singed flesh. He spotted Tien ninety feels from him, her thin body surrounded by nine man-shaped piles of smoldering ash. She didn't move, and his breath caught in his throat. Finally, her arm twitched with life and he sighed, relieved.

Tien cringed in horror as she slowly rose to her feet. Nausea hit her again when she saw and smelled the death around her. Forcing her stomach down, she tried to breathe but started to hyperventilate. Her hands stung, their palms red and blistered as if burned from the inside out. She gasped as the truth hit her. _I did this. I killed them!_

Knives walked towards her, the coarsened sand crunching loudly under his boots. She couldn't face him, not now. She pressed her raw palms to her temples as her eyes slammed shut. _Stay away from me,_ she wailed within. _I'm a freak! Nothing but a freak!_

He heard her cry and broke into a run, but she fled. Her entire world had been flipped upside down, and she couldn't deal with it. She didn't know _how_ to deal with it. The aches in her soul burst open again, empty grief washing over her in a torrent of bleak despair. Unbidden tears seeped from her eyes, trying to assuage the hurt. Unwanted memories flooded her mind again, mocking her with their images. Children laughed at her for growing up so fast. Women scorned her for being a whore's child, an accident of birth. Men abused her, treating her worse than a stray dog. _Because I'm nothing but a freak!_

Her feet stumbled and she fell. She curled into a ball, trying to shrink into oblivion. Her life continued playing before her eyes, the recollections unceasing in her sorrow. She pressed hard on her temples, vainly trying to make the deluge stop. _Why now? Why is this happening now?_

Knives reached her, panting hard and body shaking from the adrenaline rush. Tien whimpered plaintively before him, her anguish cutting him to the core. _This shouldn't be happening to her, _his mind cried. _She's only half plant. Her mind can't take this_.

He dropped to his knees and touched her. She cringed from the contact, her whimpering growing more desperate. He seized her shoulders and shook hard. "Tien. Tien!"

_Get away from me! _she shrieked. _Just leave!_

_No._

_You saw what I did to them. I could have killed you!_

_But you didn't._

_I'm a freak! Nothing but a freak!_

_No, you're not._

She withdrew from him, her body going limp as she retreated into her own psyche. The link between them began to shrink as she fled. Desperation pulled at him. If he lost her now, he'd never get her back. He seized her shoulders and pulled her body into a sitting position.

_Tien. Tien, listen to me._

He felt her pause.

_Tien, you're not a freak._

_I just killed those men…_

_Yes. Yes, you did. _She pulled away again. _But you have that power within you. The power of life and death. You always have._

She hesitated.

_You never saw it because you always thought you were human._

_My mother…_

_Yes, your mother was a human. But your father was a plant._

Her eyelids fluttered open. Panicky blue stared at him. _A plant?_

_Yes,_ he sighed. Finally, she was beginning to understand.

She slammed her eyes shut again. _Then I'm even more of a freak! I'm a half-breed freak!_

"You are _not_ a freak!" he yelled at her, clamping his hands over her temples and shaking her head, trying to jar her into sanity.

Her eyes flew open at his touch. She had carefully sealed the link from her end, but his strong emotions ripped through the barriers. His thoughts poured into her mind, his memories flashing past her mental eyes. She watched his past in shock, unable to tear her attention away. Over a hundred years' worth of life rolled past her, images and sounds blending into a mental cacophony. Some memories stayed longer than others: Daelu, her mother, a blue-haired man, a priest. Suddenly, one word rose above the jumble of remembered dialogue. A single word that resounded in both their heads.

_Father._

She returned to her consciousness and glared at Knives. His jaw loosened in shock as he removed his hands, suddenly aware of what had happened. He had been so careful, erecting defenses against his emotions before he ever touched her. But the memory transfer had occurred nonetheless…

_Father._

Anger boiled in her. Everything she had been through, everything she had suffered was because of him. All the rage and hatred she'd thought she'd buried now poured into her clenched fists. Her hands started to burn and glow, in spite of the shock and fear on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, and she swung.

Knives flew face first into the dirt. Blood gathered in his mouth and he spat it out painfully. She rose to her feet, indignation stiffening her movements.

"You bastard," she whispered.

"Tien," he said, extending pleading hands to her. "I can explain—"

"You're my _father_ and you never had the decency to tell me! Never had the decency to take me away from that place before…before…" Tears pooled in her eyes, but she shook them out fiercely. "You knew what was going on. But you still left me there! If you'd have been even _half_ the father you should have been—"

"Yes," He stood slowly, and deep ice met her gaze. "I know. However, you were far safer in Daelu than with me. Not with everything that was—"

"Liar."

"You have no idea what I was involved in," he said, walking towards her. "What I am _still_ involved in."

"Then why did you come now?"

"Because you needed me." He stopped, his face only iches away from hers. "In my absence, your situation had grown far out of my control. The only remedy was direct physical involvement."

"Stop treating me like I'm some stupid factor in an equation," she yelled at him, slamming her fists on his chest as her eyes turned to liquid again. "I'm your daughter, for Pete's sake!"

"Yes." His hand reached out to caress her cheek, and his face suddenly seemed human. Painfully, sorrowfully human. "You are."

"You jerk! You knew what was happening. You _knew_! But you did nothing."

"I did what I could."

"That is not good enough! It wasn't enough," she yelled, dissolving into sobs. Tien buried her face in his chest, her thin body convulsing as she wept.

Knives didn't move, neither stiffening nor relaxing. He could feel her pain, her emptiness and grief, even outside the mental link. His eyes clouded with confusion. She needed something from him, but what could he do? His arms moved by themselves, slowly wrapping around her. The sobbing quieted slightly, and her spasms lost their intensity. He set his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes.

_What is this girl doing to me?

* * *

_

Tien sat in a ball in the back seat as the car sputtered across the sands again. Knives had dressed her throbbing palms, but she still hurt, more than physically. Worse than her own pain was the overwhelming burden of the dead bandits, their lost lives dragging on her shoulders like lead weights. _She_ had killed them. S_he_ had been the instrument of their destruction. If it wasn't for her, they'd still be alive.

_They deserved nothing less._

_I know,_ she thought, gripping her knees tighter._ But I didn't wanna do it. I didn't want to kill them._

_Why? They are nothing less than garbage._

_They were living beings! _

_So are we. They would have killed us. You know that._

'_Dog eat dog,' huh?_

_I prefer 'kill the spider to save the butterfly.'_

_But if you kill all the spiders, the butterflies will overpopulate and die anyways._

She felt him stiffen. _It was only an illustration._

"Well, it was a stupid one," she finally voiced, lifting harsh eyes to her stoic driver. "You knew about the Indians. You knew what we faced out here. But you ignored the dangers."

"I thought I could handle it," he answered quietly.

"Well, you certainly handled it… In the hotel, you said I would come to a 'realization' about something. Is that what you meant? That I would realize I had the power to kill people? You planned this all along, didn't you?!"

"I wanted you to realize the power within you."

"So you dragged me straight into the lions' den."_ So I could prove I'm a natural-born killer._

"No, you're not."

"But the light…"

"Technically, the light you created shouldn't be able to _kill_ anyone, human or plant. Not like that. It destroys inanimate objects—houses, buildings, cars—and can severely damage living tissue, but I have never seen destruction of that magnitude."

_Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better. _

"That incident was likely the explosion of your pent-up energy."

"Meaning what?"

"Humans created the first of our kind to function as 'living generators.' They engineered us to produce energy as a byproduct of natural biological functions. If we do not expel a certain amount of that energy every day, it builds up, like water behind a dam. As you matured, your abilities were neither nurtured nor developed, and over time, the energy within you gathered until it could not be contained. It finally found a way to relieve the pressure. Violently."

"So, it was unavoidable."

"Sooner or later, the energy would have been expelled."

_I wish it would have been later rather than sooner_.

"No, you don't. The explosion could have been much worse. It could have killed us both."

_Forty men for the lives of two. _She returned her gaze to the horizon flying past, and squinted in thought. "Where are we headed so fast?"

"There is a ship buried out here."

"A ship? But I thought all the ships had been found and pillaged."

"Not _all_."

"Why are you taking me there?"

"Your abilities need to be nurtured and developed. _Away_ from humans."

"Ok, but why the speed? It's not like the Indians are chasing us."_ Or are they?_

He exhaled. "The Indians are actually two separate gangs. The Chief monitors the southern half of their territory, while the northern section is guarded by Big Montana. The leaders combined forces to seize control of a larger area. It is only a matter of time before Montana discovers what happened."

"And you couldn't have told me this sooner?"

"If we continue at this speed, by the time they discover the bodies, we will be safely out of their reach."

"How are you so sure they won't hunt us down?"

He smirked maliciously. "They may hunt, but they won't find us."

_Why does that not instill confidence in me?_

"You should rest. Your body is weak."

"I am perfectly fine."

"Mm-hmm," he murmured, glancing back at her. "Your drooping lids tell me otherwise."

"I'm not about to fall asleep and let you crash this thing again."

"I will let you know if trouble arises."

She pulled a blanket around her and leaned her head against the seat back. "With you, there's always trouble."

Knives just smirked and drove on.

* * *

_A/N: Mwaha! Update right when I promised. And apparently Knives didn't spend _all _that time holed up in a ship. Hopefully all his explanations make sense…_

_Butterfly plushies to Maxwell's Angel and jewelofbeauty. Bonus plushie to jewelofbeauty for figuring out his little secret two chaps early!_


	6. Flash Forward, and Flash Back

_Disclaimer: The only stuff relating to Trigun that I actually own is the merchandise. _

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_One year later_

Tien sat alone at the back table in the bar; her gaze riveted on the slowly dwindling drink in her hands. From across the room, the female bartender's aggravation hit her in waves. She'd been hiding out there all day, and this was only her second drink. Round one had lasted six hours, but her refilled scotch was only two hours old. _Besides,_ _which would you rather have: a rowdy drunk or a loitering customer?_ _It's not like the place is crowded._

She sighed. _Pestilent human_, her father would say. At the thought of Knives, pangs tore through her and she slumped even lower in her chair. It had been nearly two weeks since she'd left and it still hurt to think of him. With a fierce gulp, she finished off the watered-down alcohol and winced as the liquid burned its way down. However, the booze couldn't help her deal with her problems. It could only make her forget temporarily…

* * *

"_What do you think you're doing?" _

_Knives stood in the doorway to the ship's computer room, almost puffing himself up to fill the frame. Tien froze at the keyboard, caught red-handed. Again._

"_How many times do I have to destroy this!" he snarled, marching toward the computer. Clamping a heavy hand on her shoulder, he pulled her from the machine, rolling chair and all. She slid across the room and bumped into the opposite wall as he popped the small disk out of the drive. He crushed it in his grip, the plastic melting into an unusable lump from the heat of his anger. "How many more of these do you have?" _

_She rose to her feet, sheer insolence in her silent glare._

"_I __will__ find the rest."_

"_I doubt it," she snorted, crossing her arms. "You're not the only one who can hide evidence."_

"_If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times—"_

"_648, actually."_

"—_you should not be meddling with these files."_

"_Well I wouldn't have to meddle if you'd just tell me!"_

"_I have told you all you need to know. Project SEEDS was spawned by the—"_

"—_human garbage in order to spread pathogenic organisms across a healthy universe. And because of their selfish migration, we're stranded on this ball of sand, blah, blah, blah." Her eyes rolled. "I know the story. __Your__ version of it."_

"_There is no 'version' of the truth."_

"_Then why won't you let me compare your story against the ship's data?"_

"_Tien, that data is hopelessly skewed in the humans' favor. Besides, you should be able to accept my word as truth."_

"_This coming from a guy who likens his sisters to __insects__."_

_He stiffened. "I told you, that is an illustration."_

"_It's more of an inside joke between you and your brother than an actual philosophy. 'Kill the spider to save the butterfly.'" She snickered. "It's laughable, really. I don't see how you could build an entire ideology based a single childhood experience."_

_Knives scowled at her. "__Don't__ patronize me."_

"_Then let me see the files," she replied, her words crisp and sharp._

"_You know far too much for your own good, child."_

_Her eyes narrowed. "And you're a raving megalomaniac. Your point?"_

_He threw a finger toward the door. "Go to your room."_

_Tien's eyebrow rose. "You're sending me to my room?"_

"_I will not repeat myself."_

"_You're serious. You're actually serious." _

"_Do you need an escort?"_

"_Fine," she bit off, shooting him with the ultimate of glares as she left. _

* * *

His anger hadn't stopped her. It just made her even more secretive. She made five more copies of the data that night and cached them around the ship, adding to the hundreds of disks she'd already hidden in all the nooks and crannies. Shortly after they had arrived, Knives had allowed to her to study the ship's logs all she wanted, but the files from his birth to the Fall were gone. She'd finally located the omitted records, but only after painstakingly digging through the computer's individual lines of code. Then she stumbled upon more deleted files, mostly referring to an experiment involving something called "Tessla." When Tien had asked him for an explanation, Knives shut his mouth and tried to destroy _all_ the records behind her back. Fortunately, she'd had enough foresight to copy everything to disk before telling him. Unfortunately, her father predicted her moves. Every time she tried to study the data, he had found her and destroyed a copy of the pirated files. Volumes upon volumes of information, and she hadn't been able to examine even ten percent of the total. She knew she couldn't approach the plant angels, her dear _carae_, since they would neither tell her what she sought nor keep her inquiries secret from her father. The unknown had gnawed at her, haunting her dreams and tugging at her thoughts. Finally, she'd settled on a solution. Go straight to the source himself.

* * *

_Night fell. Tien felt the angels' energies decrease as the ship's systems settled to a low hum. The clock on her bedroom wall said 9:10 PM. She snatched a book from the shelf and flopped on her bed. Three hours to go._

_Midnight was slow to come. If she wasn't so determined or so angry, she might have succumbed to the gentle slumber that taunted her. What she was about to pull was risky, if not dangerous. Mainly because she hadn't done it on this large a scale before. But she felt she had to do it. Knives and the carae knew something, something about their shared past that they were more than loath to divulge._

_The digital numbers read 12:09, so she set the book aside and rose to her feet. As she stiffened her body and closed her eyes, she felt her mind clearing and her concentration focusing on her self-appointed task. Lowering her head and tightening her fists, she tapped into the carae's energies and reached out to Knives' mind. His presence was there. She could barely feel him, indicating he had drifted to sleep. The one night this week he was actually solidly asleep. His brain was in REM, the perfect time for her. _

_He had taught her how to do a variation of this once before, over six months ago. As she recalled her lesson, she imagined the faint glowing of her mental tendrils as they stretched from her mind. They slid down her body and passed through the floor, the cold metal hardly a barrier to her powerful mind. Three floors down, the fingers found their way to Knives' room. She could see him on his bed, lying on his back in peaceful rest. Her telepathy ever so gently prodded his mind, seeking a back door into his consciousness. Finally, she found it and slipped in. Massaging his brain to keep him in sleep, part of her returned to her body and followed her mind downstairs._

_The mechanical door to her father's room slid open with barely a sound. Her mental fingers were still in place, and his brain waves remained steady as she entered the metal chamber. Tien knelt by the head of his bed and her hands hovered over his temples. A lump formed in her throat and she tried to swallow. She was scared. So many things could go wrong. She could trip up and leave him even more mentally troubled than he already was; she could use too much energy and kill him; she could resurface a repressed memory by accident; but worse than all that, he could catch her in the act. As if directly disobeying him to investigate Project SEEDS and the forbidden experiment wasn't bad enough, if he caught her in his mind—a shiver of fear ran down her back. She didn't know if she could suffer the consequences of her actions. _

_Finally, the lump dislodged and she steeled herself. She __had__ to know. She may not have the right to read his mind, but she more than had the right to know about the Tessla experiment. Her middle fingers touched his temples, and his mind was opened to her._

_She floated through his consciousness, trying hard not to dislodge any memory from its place. Her tendrils softly prodded through his brain, searching quietly on her covert operation. Tessla, she whispered, focusing her abilities even more. _

_In a flash, she imagined herself in a vast room, completely dark save for an enigmatic light shining from somewhere above her head. Before her, a lone desk with a simple file marked "The report of TESSLA." These were his memories—everything described on mental sheets of paper. She touched the coarse folder hesitantly, not entirely certain she wanted to see its contents. However, she had come this far, she could not turn back now. Taking a deep breath, she flipped open the cover and gasped._

_The folder was filled with pages of descriptions, all written in his sharp, precise hand. Numerous photographs were attached to the sheets, and at the top of the first page was the image of a young girl, her eyes clear and bright, soft blonde hair cropped to her shoulders. The look on her face was so peaceful, but far too mature for one so young. "Tessla," his caption read, "our sister."_

_Tien touched the picture in reverence. Sister, she thought. Another humanoid plant? How? What happened to her?_

_Light flashed before her mental eyes again and she saw a screaming infant coated in postnatal fluid, her angel mother floating above her in the bulb. Tien could feel the humans' presence, one of awe and curiosity as they looked upon the newborn. The child shrieked at the sudden separation from her mother, and looked upon the humans in terror. An ominous sensation stole over the young mind, and her wailing increased as the scientists approached her. One female human, her long dark hair stretching to her waist, tried to block their way, but the males ignored her. They reached for the child, the shrieks escalating, and suddenly the memories jumped forward in time. Now the infant was a toddler, locked in a small room with a single large window. She was playing alone on a blanket, toy blocks scattered around her. Her human caretakers treated her like a puppy, innocent and stupid, believing her more an oddity than an actual living feeling being. They always watched her from the other side of the observation window, occasionally interacting with her, mostly to change diapers, feed her, or bring in new toys. Loneliness filled the small child's heart, an ache toys or food could never fill. Another jump, and Tessla had matured even more. She was still in the isolation room, reading the book the dark-haired woman had kindly given her. Suddenly, the chamber door flew open, and she scurried to hide her treasure. Four scientists entered the room, their scowls terrifying her. She wanted to tell them she was sorry, that she would never read again, but words failed her as two men seized her arms and hauled her out. They dragged her through hallways she had never seen before, finally entering a barren room. Lights dangled precariously over a long metal table, but she had no time to take in the rest of her surroundings. The men strapped her down tight, as if she would fight them or try to run. Now alien-like scientists surrounded her; the humans' masked features ominous in their sterility. Her body froze with fear and tears streaked down her cherubic face. Syringes and scalpels loomed over Tessla's body, and Tien felt the girl's emotions rising. Overwhelming terror began to pour into her, but Tien forced her mind to remain focused._

_Tessla was now strapped in a metal chair, an oversized mechanized monstrosity covering most of her head. More needles were jabbed into her, the metal points driven through her skull and into her cerebrum. The humans were studying her brain waves, torturing her as tiny electric currents jolted through her brain. Tessla was helpless, her body bound and her jaw clamped shut. She couldn't even scream. Sorrow flooded over Tien's mind, and she saw a small tear trickle down Tessla's cheek. _

_Another jump. The humans had tied Tessla to an operating table, her body nearly ripped apart from all the tubes and equipment impaling her. Blood soaked the sheets and dressings around her, and more blood dripped from a bag hung above her head. Tien could feel her life draining away as the scientists tested her; cutting and chopping her apart like a living autopsy. Tubes hung from everywhere, pouring liquids into her, draining liquids from her. Tessla was little more than a living shell, her spirit broken and shriveled by their unceasing experiments. The scientists pried open her mouth, revealing missing and broken teeth set into bleeding gums. At last, the humans realized their lab rat was dying, but as they stabbed the final needle in her, her body convulsed violently, ripping the tubes from her body. Blood spattered everywhere and Tessla gasped painfully, her lungs writhing in the throngs of death. The scientists jumped back, fear coating their faces. No pity surfaced in their souls for the being, the __child__ they were killing. Tessla screamed inside herself, the wails extending through her telepathy to the bystanders. The humans winced in pain, but remained as cold and impassive as statues. Everyone heard her cries, but no one listened. No one __chose__ to listen. She wondered where the dark-haired woman was. The one human who expressed concern for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Tessla knew she was alone, as always. Horribly, dreadfully alone. A tear dripped down her cheek, but no one saw. She ached to be held in her death, but no one moved forward. One last wheeze, and Tessla was dead. _

_Tien wanted to scream. How could they just kill her like that? How could those…__animals__ do that to her?! She was a living being! Not a toy or a simple 'specimen,' as they labeled her, but a living breathing child! A child to be loved and nurtured, not to be cut apart and studied under glass. The waves of emotions passed and Tien was returned to the dark room, her mind freed to reason. How could Knives know this? she wondered, her spasmed breaths calming. He had found the file on the SEEDS computer records, but there was so much more here. So many emotions you couldn't read from a report. Tessla was born before him, so the only way he could know all of this…He must have read the carae. He had read his sisters' minds, absorbed their memories and taken them for his own. But he must have also internalized Tessla's pain, or else the emotions wouldn't have registered that strongly… _

_She looked at the folder on the desk again. The pages had all been flipped as if read, but one more page lay before her, one more picture clipped to its description. The last memory directly relating to Tessla. Her fingers crept toward the picture and she was once more transported to her father's past. She was on the SEEDS mothership, before her stood her father and uncle, young boys dressed in plain blue uniforms. They were standing in a medical bay, one that had sat unused for a good deal of time. Before them towered three glass tubes, all filled with a liquid preservative. Something floated in the fluid and Tien stepped forward, narrowing her eyes to investigate. Lights snapped on and she gasped. _

_Exhibited in the tubes, like some sort of freak show, was Tessla's tattered body. The humans had autopsied her, ripping her apart more cruelly in death than in life. Her intestines and organs floated in the preservative, still grotesquely attached to her body. Her arms drifted around her, their slowly decomposing tissues waving in the thick liquid. In a separate tube, Tessla's brain and eyes hovered, forlornly looking at the other tubes, yearning to be reunited with the rest of the body. _

_Tien's stomach heaved and she covered her mouth, forcing the nausea down. Now was not the time to throw up, so deeply entrenched in her father's memories. This is why you went nuts, she thought, turning around to study the young Knives behind her. He looked so innocent, so kind and gentle, but a shock like this would traumatize anyone. She reached out to touch his cheek, and more memories flowed through her. Knives at a computer, an evil glint in his eyes…the dark-haired woman taking him and Vash to the pods…ships steering toward Gunsmoke…a blood-red sky lit with fire…ships burning in the atmosphere…the Great Fall…_

_Suddenly, Knives woke up. His eyes flew open and he shoved Tien from his mind. She was slammed back into her body painfully as he grabbed her wrists and pulled them from his temples. He twisted to sit up and glared at her as she pulled her hands free. Rubbing her wrists, she cowered against the wall, her eyes large with shock at what she had seen. Knives rose to his feet, his movements stiff and eyes wild._

"_Do you have any idea what you've done?" he ordered, his voice thick and gruff. She had pissed him off before, but never like this. "Do you have any idea what you've done?! This is equivalent to rape among our kind!"_

"_Rape!" she said, her back straightening with sudden temper. "How would you know about rape? The only person to ever touch you was a prostitute!"_

"_Watch it," he growled._

"_No, you watch it." Tien stepped towards him. "For a year, you've been filling my head with some cock-and-bull story about spiders and butterflies, never really telling me the real reason behind your hatred of humanity. Instead of telling me the truth, you tried to program me to be one of your little lackeys, like your blue-haired masochist. You conspired with your sisters, leaving me completely in the dark about Tessla. Why didn't you tell me about her?" _

"_You didn't need to know."_

"_The first humanoid plant and I didn't need to know? I have a right to know!"_

"_And that justifies your actions?"_

"_You left me no alternative," she stated, crossing her arms. _

_His body tightened. "Then you know why they must die."_

"_Those were the actions of only a few humans. They're long since dead. Slaughtered by __your__ hands, along with thousands of innocents in the Fall."_

"_There is no such thing as an innocent human."_

"_And I'm starting to wonder if there is such a thing as a reasonable plant. The actions of a few should not condemn an entire race."_

"_Have you already forgotten Daelu?"_

"_Don't even go there, Dad. Don't you even—"_

"_They feared you, they hated you. And Ted—"_

"_Ted was a horny drunk. He would have attacked me anyways, plant or human."_

"_Excuses. I see no reason why you continue to fight for them. You know the depths of human depravity. You have seen and experienced them firsthand. Why do you love them?"_

"_I don't love them. But I don't wanna see them dead either."_

"_As soon as the humans discover what we truly are, they will torture us, rip apart our bodies for dissection, and Tessla will not be the only one floating in a tube."_

"_Not all humans are like that, Dad." Her eyes narrowed in accusation. "You should know."_

"_What are you insinuating?"_

"_Rem." He glared even more fiercely. She'd hit a tender spot. "She cried out against the experiments, and even violated numerous rules to protect you and Vash. The woman who cared for you more than a mother and how did you repay her? You __killed__ her in the Fall. Coldly, cruelly __murdered__ her with the direct consequences of your actions. You have more blood staining your hands than any human on Gunsmoke. Genocide, attempted fratricide, and matricide top the list of your crimes. You've killed or tried to kill everyone who ever got close to you. Rem, the SEEDS crew, Legato, the Gung-Ho Guns, even Vash. You are waist deep in all their blood, and you are even deeper in denial. Everything that happened to them is your fault, but you refuse to see it, choosing instead to sit upon the imaginary pedestal of megalomania. We are not superior beings. We're merely different."_

_Hackles rose at her words, and he took a frigid breath. Fire turned to ice as his eyes darkened. "Get out," he ordered sharply, trying to stifle his emotions. "Get out."_

_Their eyes locked as she walked out, glares saying all._

That was the last time she saw him. After leaving his room, she grabbed her father's vertical duffel and packed her things. The angels felt her anger and called out, wondering why she was going. She hated to leave the _carae_, her dear angelic ones, but Tien knew she couldn't stay. Not after that fight. Not after she'd crept into his mind and especially not after what she'd said to him. She slipped through the ship with feline silence and left without looking back, shoving aside her second thoughts as she walked alone through the cool desert. 

For two weeks, she'd wandered. Drifting from town to town, traveling mostly by foot, she occasionally caught a ride from good-hearted Samaritans. She didn't know her destination, nor did she care. Anywhere was good enough for her. Anywhere but Daelu or her father.

She motioned to the bartender and a third scotch appeared before her.

"So, you're finally making your stay worthwhile. Anything else, dearie?" asked the middle-aged woman gruffly.

She shook her head and the woman returned to her post.

Tien knew Knives hadn't wanted her to leave, but running just seemed like the best idea. After he'd rescued her, their fights had gone from snappy banter to all-out verbal warfare. The taller she grew and more she matured, the more their differing views clashed. That night, the fighting had finally reached the not-unexpected climax, and she simply hadn't wanted to face him the next morning. Pangs of grief and guilt tore through her again. A tear fell into her drink.

_Oh Daddy, why can't you see?_

Suddenly, the bar's doors were thrown open with a slam, jarring Tien out of her mental trance. A tall blonde man stood in the doorway, taking a deep breath and savoring the scene before him. "Oh man! It's good to finally find a bar again!" he said, striding happily toward the bartender.

Tien eyed him with amusement. Spiky blonde hair, aqua eyes, mole under the left eye—she recognized him immediately. Vash the Stampede. Infamous outlaw, formerly wanted for various offenses, now just a walking disaster area. His trademark coat was gone, replaced by more civilian attire: plain white shirt, sharp black jeans, and dark red boots. He could almost pass for a normal person. Almost.

He asked for a beer and leaned against the counter, surveying the room with a glance. Tien dropped her gaze to her drink, trying to avoid his eyes. _Smooth, _she growled. _Like he won't notice that. _

Vash had noticed, but for different reasons. As soon as he'd entered the town, he'd felt her presence, the electric energy of a plant. Following the trail to the bar, he'd spotted her sitting at the table in the back corner. His eyes studied her closely, trying not to rouse suspicion. Her feathery hair fell just past her shoulders and hid her face in the shadows, and under the dark khaki trench coat and silver shirt, her mature female form was sleek and lithe. Overall, she wasn't what he would call "drop-dead gorgeous," but definitely far beyond just "pretty."

"Hey, Grandma. You know anything about that girl?" he asked quietly.

"Nah," the barkeep replied, handing him a small bottle of beer. "She just wandered in this morning, ordered a scotch on the rocks an' sat down."

"Scotch? What's she trying to forget?"

"Don't know. Been here eight hours, an' that's only her third drink."

"Hn." He took a swig from the bottle. "She looks lonely."

"I'd be careful. Her gun's pretty big for a gal like her."

"Never stopped me before," he grinned.

Vash turned around and headed directly towards her. Tien didn't look up. only glanced up when he stopped by her table. Her father hadn't spoken of him much, but she'd sensed more than a few bitter-tinged memories, and wasn't quite sure how her outlaw uncle would take to her. Would he reach out to save her like a missionary, or would he see her as her father's protege and little else? But when he stopped by her table, she glanced up, only to see a smile as sincere as it was goofy.

"This seat taken?"

Her head shook.

Though he was standing across the table, he pulled out the chair next to her and plopped down. "I've never seen you before. New in town?"

"Just passing through."

"Yeah, me too. I'm just visiting a couple friends. Name's Vash."

"The Stampede." Tien turned to him and managed a guilty smile. "I know a Humanoid Typhoon when I see one…"

Vash was staring at her. Not focusing on her, not looking at her, but _staring_. His eyes were wide and his lips parted slightly in astonishment. _She looks __just__ like Knives,_ he thought. Same pale blonde hair, same piercing blue eyes. Undoubtedly feminine, yes, but the similarities were incredible. She blushed lightly and tucked her hair behind her ears, gaze drifting back down to the drink on the table.

"Who are you?" he asked, still entranced.

Her finger traced the lip of the glass. "Tien."

"Do you know Millions Knives?"

Her finger stopped; she took a breath. "He's my father."

Aqua eyes blinked once, twice. _Father?_

"VASH!"

They looked towards the door. A short black-haired woman was marching toward them, her dagger-edged glare fierce enough to make adobe crumble, paint peel, milk curdle, and probably make Knives at least cringe.

But it was doing enough damage on her spikey-haired uncle. Vash whimpered, looking as though he wanted to crawl under the table. Or into it. "Aw, man."

"Girlfriend?"

"Worse…Wife."

"You idiot!" Meryl barked as she glared down her husband. "Where have you been?"

"I visited Frank, then came here. Just like I told you I would."

"For _six hours_?"

"We had a lot to talk about!"

She flashed teeth, then her eyes snapped towards Tien. "And who is this?"

Tien knew that look, that tone. The kind that was always aimed at a brothel girl caught in her job. And now it was aimed at her. She gave Meryl a warm smile, if only to cover the fury spawning within. "Vash and I were just sharing a drink. You're welcome to join us. My name's Tien."

Meryl reached for a chair, not taking her eyes off the young plant. Slowly, her lilac-grey daggers dulled, but the threat remained just under the surface.

Vash leaned close, squeezing her hand under the table. "Meryl, does she…remind you of anyone?"

"Why?" The glare sharpened again. "Should she?"

"Just _look _at her."

Meryl's eyes narrowed, uncertain. When she looked to Tien again and studied the girl, her face loosened, entirely disarmed. She turned to Vash again, almost paling. He nodded.

Tien shifted in her chair, eyes dropping to the table as a hundred mental questions shot at her. _She looks so much like him, his child? But she can't be! Who's the mother? Another plant? Maybe she's a clone? How old is she? How did he keep this a secret? Is she anything like him? Does she know where—_

"I don't know where he is," Tien spat. "I haven't seen him for weeks."

"You can read minds?" Meryl asked.

"Just because you ignore your gifts, Vash." She heard her voice turn acidic. "Doesn't mean we all do."

"What else can—"

"I don't do parlor tricks."

"Tien," Vash said. His tone was gentle, calming. "This is gonna sound weird, but—"

"I'm not a clone," she snapped. "The technology on this planet is far too poor for that."

"Then—"

"My mother was a human." Her glacial blue eyes jumped up, latching on and squelching the question in their eyes before could rise. "Crossbreeding is not impossible. Plants were originally designed after humans, 'in your own image,' one might say. Only a bit of engineering, spliced genes and naturally-occuring mutations separate my kind from yours."

Vash's expression chilled slightly, Meryl visibly closed herself off, and Tien realized how pathetically scientific she'd sounded. Like someone had recorded a lecture of Plant Genetics 101, or worse – that she was merely a copy of her father. A clone of different breeding.

Meryl glanced at the saloon's clock. "Vash, we need to go…"

But Vash leaned forward, resting his hand - his warm, calloused, fleshed hand - over hers. His touch was just as kind as his voice, and somehow kept her from pulling away. He was not his brother; everything but. Nothing about Knives was soft, and she doubted the plant was even capable of anything akin to tenderness. But Vash, he exuded it, like he forced himself to give off that kind of aura.

"Listen," he said. "If you need anything, we're in the hotel. Room 215."

"Thanks." And Tien gave the couple a tiny smile as they rose to leave. _But right now, I think I need a cure for a hangover. Scotch is __not my friend._

_**

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_**A/N:**__ Sorry for taking so long to update!! These last several months were a complete blur. Last semester of college, family health problems, trying to write a novel in only six months (and dang near succeeding), total lack of social life… sadly, this got pushed to the far back burner. But I'll try to keep the updates coming, I swear!_

_Anyways, giganto Vash plushies to Maxwell's Angel, jewelofbeauty, and Shorty Bay-B for reviewing!_

_Next chap within the next couple weeks, I promise._

_BTW, Tien's name for her fellow plants, _carae, _is taken from the Latin, literally meaning 'dear ones.' (To her, it's easier and more intimate than calling them her 'sisters,' like her psychotic old man.) _


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